


To See Ourselves As Others See Us

by Sirdinaden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirdinaden/pseuds/Sirdinaden
Summary: Percy sees several people in a new light, including himself. Harry's 2nd year, Percy/Oliver 6th.I've made some minor changes since first post. This is my first ever fic, anywhere. Thanks so much to those who have left kudos, they mean a lot to me.
Relationships: Oliver Wood - Relationship, Percy Weasley - Relationship, Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	To See Ourselves As Others See Us

**Author's Note:**

> Note: not canon compliant. Chamber of secrets not opened, students not petrified, Quidditch goes on as usual.

Tomorrow is Saturday, Percy reminded himself, so it didn't matter that he wasn't going to be able to get any sleep for hours. He expected to drift off toward morning, stay late in bed, then dress and go down to the pitch to watch Gryffindor's last Quidditch game of sixth year.

Oh, be honest, he thought, smiling to himself: he would be going down to the pitch to watch Oliver. Who was currently nestled in his arms, nuzzling his neck, making contented little snuffling sounds. Careful not to disturb him, Percy shook his head in amazement. He would not have believed this could happen, never in a million years. Oliver was peacefully asleep, but Percy was no more likely to get to sleep any time soon than tie his wand in a knot. His mind was racing, struggling to process what had happened earlier that evening, when Oliver had turned his whole life upside down.

No, Percy thought, that's wrong. His life had always been upside down. He had never felt worthy or respected. He knew he was loved by his family, but there was some kind of barrier he couldn't name, and it filled him with sadness. He had also hoped to find that _other_ kind of love, but after a few dates, Penelope had kindly but firmly told him he wasn't going to find it with her. In retrospect, he thought he should have figured it out when he noticed that she never looked at him when one particular 7th-year Ravenclaw was in the room.

Percy had been sure nobody else was looking at him either. Other students had wealth, charm, social skills, a handsome face, a hot body; he had none of those things. He had found this oddly convenient in his fourth year, happy to think Oliver wasn't watching too closely when Percy began to suspect that his feelings for his only roommate and best friend were changing.

That had been another source of sadness. When they first met at their sorting ceremony, Percy had learned that Oliver was a well loved but lonely only child. Oliver had been overjoyed that this quirky redhead was willing to be his friend. Percy was equally delighted, and quite surprised. They had almost nothing in common, yet their friendship grew closer than the relationship Percy had with his own brothers – a fact that amused Oliver and bemused Percy. They also admired each other. Oliver was half a head shorter than Percy but brawny, bubbly, upbeat and outgoing. He could instantly make himself at home in any crowd, and Percy felt lucky just to tag along in his shadow. For his part, Oliver was in awe of Percy's intellect and how quickly he mastered each new facet of magical art.

Oliver did not master magic so easily. It was so difficult for him, in fact, that some of his teachers had initially thought he might be a squib. But Percy was a patient tutor to his best friend, and with his help, Oliver eventually learned every spell and charm. Not the hexes – Oliver couldn't overcome his distaste for the idea of hurting people - but at least the rumors about him being a squib were silenced.

In the fall of their third year, Oliver came to Percy literally dancing with excitement. Oliver was crazy about Quidditch, and Charlie had invited him to join the team. He wouldn't be allowed to play for a while, but he would practice with the team and wear their uniform during matches. Percy was surprised, as Oliver tended to trip over his own feet and bang into things, which Percy found endearing. He often sported a bruise on his forehead for a week at a time. Percy was afraid Quidditch would be yet another magical thing Oliver wasn't good at, and he'd be crushed. But when Percy went down to the pitch to watch the Gryffindor team practice the next day, he saw that Charlie had been right. On the ground, Oliver was an oaf. In the air, he was a god.

In the middle of fourth year, Oliver told Percy that he had discovered he was gay. Percy thought he had no reason to fear that it would change things between them. He was sure Oliver would never fancy a scrawny git like him, and saw no reason not to continue to parade around their room in the nude, as the two had always done.

He was also not going to screw up his closest friendship by revealing that he was beginning to fancy Oliver.

Then he got the letter from Dumbledore, along with the Prefect badge. Percy thought the badge was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. When they met at Platform 9-3/4 at the beginning of fifth year, Oliver had taken one look at it and thumped Percy on the back, saying he just knew Dumbledore would give it to him. Percy went off to meet with the other Prefects, but his mind was on the conversation he and Oliver would have later, far into the night.

But the badge had placed Percy above Oliver, and he was no longer able to ignore Oliver's nonchalance about rules. As fifth year went on, and Oliver got involved with the duties that came with being the new Quidditch Captain, their conversations grew shorter and rarer. Oliver started pulling his bed curtains closed before going to sleep. Where Oliver had sat next to Percy at their study desk so Percy could easily help him, now he sat across from Percy and struggled to learn on his own. Where Oliver had been huggy and affectionate, now he was...cordial. 

Percy had been overjoyed when he got the Prefect badge, but it had cost him his best friend. He missed their close relationship so much that he had asked if he could surrender the badge, but Dumbledore wouldn't hear of it. So, in the afternoons, he went to the Quidditch stadium to watch from the stands as Oliver rode his broom. In the evenings, he watched from his study desk as Oliver lay on his bed, facing the wall, reading his copy of Quidditch Monthly. They still shared a room, but no longer shared their lives. Percy mourned.

Until this evening. The evening that had completely changed Percy's perspective about several people, including himself, and ended with Oliver in his arms. Even now, he could hardly believe how it happened.

\+ + + +

“Damn them!” Percy slammed the door and dumped his books on his bed.

Oliver was lying on his own bed, clad only in boxers, clipping bent twigs from his broom. He didn't even look up. “Okay, what have the Twins done now?”

“How did you know it was the Twins, Oliver?”

“It doesn't take a Ravenclaw to figure that out, Perce. When other students are being stupid, you're disappointed, when they're irresponsible, you're irritated, when they're destructive, you're angry. But you get over it right away. The only people who can piss you off to the point where you're still stomping around and slamming doors by the time you get to the dormitory are Fred and George. And you didn't say, 'How do you know,' you said 'How did you know,' which means I guessed right.”

Percy scowled. Oliver had nailed it. Bastard.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Percy threw his clothes in a heap on the floor and stormed off to the shower.

Warm water was his friend at times like this...times when he felt he had no other friends. It soothed his body, which was welcome, but there was nothing to soothe his soul. At least the water splashing down his face let him pretend he wasn't crying.

“What have the Twins done now?” Oliver had said. The same thing they were always doing: making Percy feel like a big, carrot-topped sack of Wrong. _All the things the Twins keep saying about me...they're all true,_ he thought bitterly. He was so, so defective. Homely, gangly, clumsy, socially awkward, stick up his arse... why did he have to be such a misfit?

He had met people with actual physical deformities who got along better with the world than he did. He thought of Eloise Midgen, who had suffered a magical accident that left her with a comically crooked nose. She had decided that crying over it was useless, so she might as well laugh at it. That had led to the discovery of her natural talent for comedy. She had kept everyone in stitches at last year's end-of-term Feast, and over the summer break she'd started appearing during Youth Night at a muggle comedy club. By the time she graduated from Hogwarts, Eloise and her crooked nose would probably have her own show on the Wizarding Wireless and her own vault in Gringott's.

Speaking of people who made other people laugh – _damn them again,_ Percy thought. _Okay, the Twins' accusations are true. It's also true that water is wet, but that doesn't mean I need to hear about it all the time. Especially when it comes with a sneer._

 _That's it, I can't handle this._ He quickly turned off the shower and walked back to his room, drying himself as he went. He needed to do something to take his mind off the Twins. Maybe he would try talking to Oliver...that didn't usually go very far these days, but at least Oliver didn't constantly remind him about his faults.

He blinked in surprise. Oliver had hung his clothes up neatly. “Ol, why...?”

Oliver shrugged. “They were on the floor.”

“But you always dump your clothes on the floor, why would you care about mine?”

“I don't, but you do. You're not the type to leave them in a heap. Not until this evening, anyway.” Oliver swung his legs over the edge of his bed and sat up. He pointed to Percy's bed. “Sit.”

“Erm, I was going to study...”

“SIT,” he said again, jabbing his finger at the bed. Percy quickly sat down and waited for the scolding/pep talk he knew was coming.

Instead, Oliver looked down at his feet and his shoulders sagged. He sat that way for a full minute. Then he looked up, and Percy was startled to see sadness in his eyes. When Oliver started speaking, his voice was quiet.

“Perce...I...I'm sorry, I've let you down...I knew the Twins were being nasty to you, and I could have stopped it, but I needed them. They're spectacular beaters, nobody in Gryffindor comes close, there's no way we can win the Quidditch Cup if I put them off their game, and I didn't think their behavior was an issue because the teasing didn't seem to be getting to you. You hid your feelings too well...until tonight. Percy Weasley would never dump his clothes on the floor unless something was really, really wrong. Please tell me what's going on in your head.”

Percy was silent for a few moments. Then he started talking quietly, not meeting Oliver's eyes. “I keep having this dream...I'm in a cage, with my wrists tied to the bars...and the Twins are standing outside it, throwing insults and poking me between the bars with sharp sticks while the other students crowd around and laugh. At bedtime, Professor McGonagall comes to let me out of the cage...and the next morning, Professor Snape comes to put me back in, and the humiliation starts all over again.”

Percy's voice began to waver as he struggled to talk around the lump that had formed in his throat. “And then I wake up, and it's not a dream, it's my life. The twins poking at me all the time, everybody else shunning me, some people laughing behind my back, the Twins laughing in my face. And the Twins are _right,_ dammit, I'm just pathetic...I feel so hopeless, I feel so trapped, I've even thought of leaving Hogwarts. That would be the end of my Ministry dreams, but I just can't take the constant mocking any longer, and I don't know what else to do.” Percy looked up at Oliver. “That's what's going on in my head, Ol. I hid it because I didn't want to seem even more pathetic than I already – Oliver, what are you doing?”

Oliver had knelt down and taken Percy's hands in his. He was shamefaced and looked ready to cry. “Ah, Perce, I'm so sorry, I had no idea, I should have seen what was happening. I have clout with the Twins, I could have stopped this and I didn't. I promise you I'm going to end this tomorrow, even if I have to kick the Twins off the team, even if it means Gryffindor never wins another game, you shouldn't have to go through this, I should never have let them mess up your life just because I was afraid of damaging their fragile egos - "

“Their WHAT?” Percy looked at Oliver incredulously. “Did I hear you correctly? Did you just tell me Fred and George have fragile egos?” Percy started to laugh.

“You didn't know that? Come to think of it, you're not that good at reading people – no offense, but you're really not – so maybe you didn't. I've had to learn how to do that because of Quidditch, though obviously I haven't been so good at reading you. Let me set you straight about what's really going on.” Oliver sat back on his bed and took a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“First, Fred and George do have fragile egos. That brash personality they share is an act. Coming after Bill, who is cooler than they'll ever be, and Charlie, who is braver than they'll ever be, and especially you, who are smarter than they'll ever be, they feel insignificant. They think the only talent they've got is for disruption, so they put on this bravado act to mask their insecurity. But I have to be really careful how I deal with them on the pitch, because an overly harsh word or even a hard stare will destroy their confidence for a week, and then they play like shite.”

“Oh come on, Ol, teachers scold them all the time and they brush it off.”

“They're able to do that because they've decided they'll never be any good at academics anyway, so they don't care. And, compared to you, they never will be – none of us ever will be. I deal with that by simply admiring your intellect. They deal with it by resenting your intellect, and pretending it's nothing special, and pretending _you're_ nothing special. But you and Bill and Charlie have done a real screw job on their self esteem, just by being who you are.”

“But they look up to Bill and Charlie....”

“Because Bill and Charlie have graduated and moved far away, so the Twins are free to admire them from a distance. But you're here, and you're brilliant, and they're not. Every time you earn an 'Outstanding' on an essay or exam, which is always, they crumble a little inside. It's hardly surprising that they resent you for it.

“Second, the Twins don't just pick on you, they pick on everybody.”

“I find that hard to believe, Oliver. They like to create general havoc, but it seems the only person who gets the constant needling is me. I've never once seen them do it to anyone else.”

Oliver looked surprised, then thoughtful. “I see...that makes sense. You're their default victim. They only pick on others when you're not around for them to pick on, so of course you never see it. The truth is, whenever you're not in that cage, somebody else is. I thought you knew that. Maybe that's why I didn't realize how much those cutting remarks are hurting you; we're all getting cut.

“Even you, Oliver? How can that be, they like you!”

“Even me. They laugh at my long-winded pep talks before games, and how clumsy I am, and the fact that I'm barely magical enough to, uh...to be considered...erm, you know...” Oliver's voice dropped to a whisper. “...barely magical enough to qualify as a real wizard.” He was looking at his feet again. Oliver had a very positive self-image, but Percy knew there was a hole in it: he was deeply embarrassed about his lack of magical aptitude. The Twins knew it too, and Percy was shocked that they were using that to hurt him.

Oliver sighed, then pulled himself together and looked at Percy again. “Third, the Twins are not as popular as you think, and certainly not as popular as they think. Maybe they would be, if they only did that teasing thing once in a while, but they never give it a bloody rest. They're always digging into somebody – you, when you're in the room, whoever is handy when you're not – and we're all sick of it. The seventh year Gryffindors can't wait to graduate so they can get away from the Twins. Everybody else is just hoping to Merlin the Twins start growing up soon.”

“If that's true, Oliver, then why are they always the center of attention?”

“Because they insist on being. Whenever they think people aren't paying enough attention to them, they just get more and more disruptive until it's impossible for anybody to do anything else, like study.”

“ - and everybody's always laughing at their jokes - “

“ - because, give them their due, their pranks are funny if you don't think about how hurtful they often are. But, you know, we all have our own lives and we'd like to be allowed to do other things now and then, and they don't understand that. It always has to be all about them, and that usually means all about them humiliating somebody else. Did you think we all love the Twins? We _tolerate_ them because we want Gryffindor to win the Quiddich cup. But we don't see them as the kind of brilliant, delightful people we would all like to be. We see them as a pair of obnoxious, immature geeks who don't know when to fucking quit!”

Percy was stunned; this put things in a whole new light. People actually disliked the Twins? Why hadn't he sensed that? He really must be as bad at reading people as Oliver said. He would have to work on that if he wanted to join the Ministry.

Oliver turned his attention to Percy. “You, on the other hand, are held in much higher esteem. You're brilliant, you're principled, you use your intelligence to help other students, instead of using it to make them feel inferior...”

“I'm a Prefect, Oliver, that's my job.”

“Yes, and it's the part of your job you like best, the part you did even before it was your job. I heard Madam Pince talking with Dumbledore about that – she told him so many other students were coming to you for help in the Library, you hardly got any study time yourself. That's why I wasn't surprised when he made you a Prefect. You may be a bit too formal at times, and some people misinterpret that as snobbishness. But down deep, you wish everyone well, even those who don't return your goodwill. You want to see them succeed and you're happy for them when they do. And I've never heard you say a mean-spirited thing about anyone. Not the Twins, despite how they treat you. Not even Malfoy, who deserves it. That's just not the kind of person you are. You have a kind of natural nobility that will not allow you to stoop that low.”

Percy sat quietly, repeating to himself what Oliver had said. How on Earth did Oliver _do_ this? He'd seen him do the same thing with others: when Oliver sensed that someone was wounded, he could conjure up healing words that worked better than any potion. His Quidditch pep talks were so clumsy they had become a running joke, but when he was helping someone see the the best in themselves, he was as eloquent as Shakespeare.

“Thank you for saying that, Oliver. Hearing you describe me in those terms is...like a choir singing a blessing over me. You know how hard I try to be a person I myself could respect...to know you've noticed, to hear you say what I hoped I’d hear someone say someday...I don't think you have any idea how much that means to me. You're the only person who has ever told me that.”

Then he smiled sadly. “And that's the problem. You're the _only_ person. You say I'm held in high esteem. By whom, besides you? I want so badly to believe you, but I'm not blind to the way people act around me. If I'm so respected, explain to me why there is this wall between me and everybody else, as if they put up a Protego when I get close. Explain why they don't like talking to me, why they freeze me out of group activities. That's too obvious to miss, Oliver. In case you haven't noticed, over the course of almost six years at Hogwarts, I've made all of two friends, you and Penelope. And when I got the Prefect badge, you pulled away. I would especially like you to explain that, because it really hurts.”

Oliver deflated like a punctured quaffle. He was silent for a long time, deep in thought. _He has something important to say,_ thought Percy, _and he's weighing whether to say it._ Finally, Oliver squared his jaw and looked directly into Percy's eyes.

“All right, Perce. I agree, it's time to get a few things out in the open. To begin with, I want you to think about your dream. Those students crowding around your cage and laughing at you – do you see me among them?”

Percy thought. He saw a mass of students, but he could also pick out many individual faces. Nearest the cage, right up to the bars, were the Twins, along with half of the Slytherins, with Malfoy and Flint laughing louder than anybody. He saw faces from every house, and even a few of the teachers. But he didn't see Oliver.

“No, Ol, you're not there.”

“I'm happy to hear you say that, Perce.”

“In fact, now that you've made me think about it, I've never seen you act that way. I've seen times when the team was goofing off, and you were angry, demanding, scolding, threatening, but I've never seen you being spiteful or trying to hurt anybody. That's so far from who you are, I'm not even sure you understand spitefulness or hurtfulness.”

“I do understand those things, Percy. I've been ridiculed, just like you, and I know what it's like. You know both my parents work away from home, so I spent the first part of my childhood in a Muggle school. I don't think I've ever mentioned this, because it's not a happy memory. You know how clumsy I am when I’m not on a broom, and I’ve always been short for my age…well, the students in that school bullied me the way the Twins have been bullying you. So I never make fun of anybody, ever, because I know how it feels. That's one of the reasons I feel so guilty about what I let the Twins do to you.

“You asked me why people keep their distance from you. It's because it's hard for lesser minds to keep up with you, hard for anyone to communicate at your level. Brilliance and social isolation just seem to go together that way. You may have noticed, for example, that Dumbledore has a hundred thousand admirers all over the Wizarding world, but not one close friend. Not one! Because how could he have? How could he develop deep personal connections with colleagues who are _not_ his peers, colleagues who are like children compared to him? That may have been why he refused to see the evil in Grindelwald until it was almost too late – he didn't want to lose the only person around him with a mind comparable to his own.

“That's also the reason you and Penelope are together – one of the reasons, anyway. She's beautiful, of course, but there are other beautiful girls at Hogwarts and you hardly look at them. The thing that makes Penelope special is that she has brains too. It's a good thing you have her. If you didn't, you'd find Hogwarts a pretty barren place.”

Percy smiled, pleased that Oliver hadn't figured out his secret. Once he and Penelope had stopped dating, they had discovered that they loved being together as friends, and they really did spend a lot of time in each others' company. He had never corrected Oliver's mistaken impression because it meant there was less danger Oliver would discover the truth about him.

Oliver continued. “I'm afraid there's nothing to be done about your isolation as long as we're students, but there are other brilliant people in the world, and you'll start finding them as soon as you leave Hogwarts. Or you may get tired of the Ministry and come back here to teach. I can just imagine the soaring conversations you and Dumbledore will have once you become colleagues. In the meantime, you need to know that this barrier between you and everybody else is not there because of one of your faults, it's there because of one of your virtues.”

Percy was silent for a long time. That people didn't dislike him – that many looked up to him, as he had always wanted – that, if they had to choose, they would actually prefer his company to that of the Twins – it was going to take him a while to accept all of this. He had felt so bad about himself that it was physically painful, as if there were a fist clenched around his heart. It had been that way for so long that he hadn't even noticed, but he noticed it now as the fist started to loosen its grip. Percy took a deep, cleansing breath for the first time in – years? Ever? He looked up at Oliver with a small smile on his face, and saw it reflected in Oliver's smile.

Then Oliver grew serious again. “About that other explanation you wanted. You and I used to have this wonderful, easy, comfortable relationship, and we don't have it now, and I need to explain why. You think it's because of the Prefect badge, since our relationship changed about the time you got it. But the Prefect badge had nothing to do with it.

“You've known for years that I'm gay. You've always figured that would never lead to anything, because you didn't think anybody could be attracted to you that way, but you were wrong. Around the beginning of last year, I started to, erm, notice you in a way I hadn't before. I didn't say anything because you were dating Penny, so I figured you were straight. I gradually pulled away because it's painful being close to you while you're with her. Knowing she has your heart and I don't...knowing she'll probably take you away from me at some point. That's how it works for a gay guy with a straight friend, right? The friend finds the right girl and he's gone.” Oliver swallowed hard.

“Oh Oliver, I'm sorry, I don't want...”

“Stop, I've got to get this all out before I lose my nerve. I started closing my bed curtains because I had taken to looking at you at night, and I didn't want you to catch me at it. I moved to the other side of the study desk because when I sat next to you I got a big lump in my trousers, and I was afraid you'd look down and see it. I stopped talking to you as much because I was scared I'd slip up and give myself away, and you'd be disgusted. I meant to keep all of this to myself because I didn't want to screw up our friendship. Although I...I guess I've screwed it up despite myself, haven't I,” he said miserably. “Anyway, I'm only telling you this now because you asked, and because...” Oliver took a deep breath. “...because I've caught _you_ looking at _me_ enough times that I'm fairly certain you're not entirely straight, and you fancy me.”

Percy went white, then beet red. He'd been so careful, or thought he had...but Oliver _knew!_ No wonder he had pulled away. He was smiling at Percy in a sympathetic way. This had to mean the “sorry, not interested, stay away from me” speech was coming, and what was left of their friendship was about to end.

“Oliver, I...I don't know what to say. You're right about me. Penny and I broke up ages ago. We're very good friends, not lovers. There isn't going to be another girl, I've realized I'm more gay than straight. And, and, yes I do fancy you, I...I've fallen in love with you. Having someone like me in love with you can't make you very happy. I'm sorry.”

Oliver's expression darkened. “Percy, what is that supposed to mean, 'someone like me?'"

“You know very well what I mean. The Twins may be geeks, but everything they say about me is true – ”

Oliver exploded. “Dammit Percy! Stop treating everything the Twins say as if it's chiseled in stone, as if nobody is permitted to have a different viewpoint! You're such an expert on rules – show me the rule that says I have to think what they think! Show me the rule that says I have to see you through their eyes instead of my own! Don't I have a right to think for myself? Didn't I just tell you I fancy you? Weren't you listening?”

“Oh come on, Oliver, look at me!” Percy jumped to his feet and spread his arms. “I'm gangly and scrawny and stringy and I've got this mop of gaudy, garish red hair and these stupid, spotty freckles all over...surely you can see those things.”

“Of course I can see those things, but you're using the wrong words to describe them.” Oliver stood up, facing Percy, and looked him up and down. “Did you say you're gangly and scrawny and stringy? Well, those aren't the words I would use. I see someone who is _tall_ and _lean_ and _sinewy._ You say you have gaudy, garish red hair. I see _beautiful, fiery_ red hair, like maple leaves in autumn. You say you have stupid-looking freckles. I see _cute_ freckles, like sweet cinnamon specks all over. And lovely pink lips that make the sun come out whenever you smile, and gorgeous blue eyes that are like windows into the brilliant mind behind them – “

“Oliver, my brilliant mind is one of the things that put people off, you said so yourself. I've always been teased about my intellect...”

“By the _Twins,_ who don't have it and feel threatened by it! They can't match your mental ability, so they belittle it and find other things to belittle about you! The problem here is not something that's wrong with you, _it's something that's wrong with them!!”_

Oliver paused to calm down, giving Percy time to think about what he'd said. Percy had never considered that the Twins' teasing might be evidence of _their_ faults. They didn't mean to be cruel, but they were, and not just to Percy, but to everybody. But Oliver... _Oliver simply can't be cruel,_ Percy thought. _He wouldn't know how, it's just not in him to do that to people._ Maybe, he realized, he should care less about what the Twins thought and more about what his best friend thought.

Oliver looked into Percy's eyes and summoned up all the persuasiveness he could muster. “Percy, you need to understand that people are guarded in your presence because they're afraid they'll come off looking stupid next to you, but they respect you nonetheless. Especially when they compare your dignified behavior to that fucking clown show the Twins are always putting on. The Twins are your brothers, so naturally their opinion carries extra weight with you. But they are just two people. _Two,_ Percy, out of hundreds of people at Hogwarts, most of whom see you differently." 

"They - they do? Where are these people, Oliver? I don't see them."

"Of course you don't. You've already convinced yourself nobody respects you, so when somebody does, you don't even notice. Well, _I_ notice. I watch people watching you, I hear what they say, and I can tell you that the majority do not agree with the Twins.

“And there are a whole bunch of Hogwarts students who more than respect you: the ones you've tutored in the Library. You're so willing to help anyone who needs it that you probably don't even realize you're not just tutoring Gryffindor students. Hufflepuff and Slytherin students also come to you instead of going to their own prefects. Even Ravenclaws, sometimes, and that's saying something, seeing as how their Prefect is Penelope Clearwater. You're a better teacher than many of the real teachers. Much better than Snape. Infinitely better than Binns or Trelawney.”

Percy gasped. “Oliver! You shouldn't be talking that way about our teachers! Especially Professor Snape! He may be the most brilliant potions maker Hogwarts has ever seen!”

“But you're better at _teaching_ potions. You have a way of explaining complicated things so they're not only clear, they're obvious. I'd bet half the students at Hogwarts have come to you for help at one time or another, and they look at you with admiration and gratitude. I know because I'm one of them. You're the one who took the little magic I was born with and developed it, so I no longer embarrass myself around better wizards. You're the one who believed I could be a real wizard when the teachers didn't, and then taught me to believe it myself. I can't tell you how grateful I am...I owe you so much!

“And speaking of that brilliant mind, not everybody is put off by it. I happen to like being around that intellect of yours. I like revising with you, reading your essays, watching you make connections across disciplines nobody else would have thought of. I have a right to think for myself, correct? Well, let me tell you what I _think,_ Mister Percival Ignatius. I think your tall, lean, freckled body is smokin' hot, but that hot body with that brilliant mind inside is even hotter.”

Wait, what? Oliver thought his _mind_ was hot?

“Now,” said Oliver, “I know what you're going to say next, because I know how good you are at beating yourself up. You're going to mention that stick up your arse. You do cop an attitude a lot, but now that I know what's going on, I can see that you do it in self defense, and anyway you don't do it around me. Maybe we just got to know each other before you had enough knowledge to be intimidating. If that's the case, I feel lucky. The Percy I used to know was a joy to be with, back before I got all awkward around you and your hot bod.”

Oliver reached up and put his hands on Percy's shoulders. “Look, I miss what we had even more than you do. You were the brother I always wanted. I think we can get that back if we try. I think we can have even more, now that we don't have to hide our feelings about each other. Can we do this together, and see where it takes us? Please?” Oliver was looking at Percy with pleading eyes and gripping his shoulders so hard it was almost painful.

Percy just stood there, stunned. Oliver had taken every one of the burdens weighing him down and demolished them all, one after another. He was astonished...no, more than that. Gobsmacked...no, more than that. Percy wanted to be sure he had found the right word for once – _thunderstruck!_ Yes, that was it!

His horribly negative self-image had been _wrong!_ Oliver thought he was beautiful! Their estrangement was over! They were going to be closer than they had ever been! He felt lighter than air, he felt like running and jumping and shouting and doing cartwheels, he felt like he could have flown without a broom. Percy was afraid that if he tried to speak, he would start crying, so he just smiled at Oliver and nodded.

Oliver's face lit up like the Sun. “Oh, thank you, Perce, thank you, thank you, thank you! I was so afraid I'd scare you off, but I had to try, it was killing me to keep all that bottled up when I wanted so much to do this.” He pulled Percy into a tight bear hug.

Percy's brain exploded. He'd spent ages covertly eyeing Oliver's Quidditch-buffed body, but had never dreamed he'd be permitted to _feel_ it this way, pressed against him, wrapped around him...the abs, the pecs, the biceps, the big, strong hands...wow!!

And Oliver had chosen to give all this to _him,_ when there were so many others who were hotter, fitter, better looking? He couldn't understand it. But the way Oliver was moving his hands left no doubt that he really did find Percy desirable. Maybe Oliver didn't want someone brawny like himself. Maybe, Percy realized, different people find different things attractive. He had been sure nobody on Earth would ever be drawn to him, but somebody had been - miraculously, unbelievably, the one person he would have hoped for, if he had dared to hope. Oliver had made no move to end the hug, as if wanting to make up for years of self-imposed withdrawal. Percy couldn't find any reason to complain.

Eventually, Oliver released him and took a step back. “A couple more things I haven't gotten to. I bet you hate your orange skin, the way it refuses to tan and burns so easily and freckles up when you've been in the sun. Did you know, you glow in the moonlight, the way a Veela does. So beautiful...and you haven't got an ounce of fat, so I get to watch those lean sinews moving under your skin when you exercise in the morning. And, erm...you have _that_ thing, down there. Which is going to be in my mouth in about thirty seconds.”

 _Oh no!_ Percy thought, _Aphrodite's nipples, Merlin's wrinkly butt, I forgot to put anything on when I left the shower!_ He had never been self-conscious around Oliver before, but now... Percy grabbed the towel and was about to cover up when Oliver stopped him.

“Please don't do that,” said Oliver. “I want to look at you. You're so beautiful, covering anything is like smearing mud on a work of art.”

“Um, thank you Oliver, but now that I know you're actually _looking_ at me, it feels weird to stand here in front of you, like I'm on display...”

“Okay, let's make it even.” Oliver pushed his boxers to the floor and stepped out of them. With an impish grin, he added, “Now that we're both naked, I know better things to do than stand here talking about how hot you are.” He grabbed Percy's wrist and jumped back onto his bed, pulling Percy in after him.

It turned out Oliver did know better things to do. Great Godric, _lots_ of better things! Two or three times, some of them. Percy supposed that being a Quidditch captain at a school full of horny teenagers presented, um, _opportunities,_ and Oliver had obviously not let them go to waste. Percy didn't mind. If it had been up to him, he wouldn't have had any idea what to do.

He was surprised to learn how often Oliver had crossed “enemy lines” – “One of the Ravenclaw players showed me this,” or “Cedric and I discovered this together.” Percy had never suspected that a lot of that Quidditch rivalry was a smokescreen to hide what was going on away from the pitch – and, according to Oliver, sometimes not away from it. _Well,_ Percy thought, _the hot guys gay and bi Quidditch players want would be other Quidditch players, wouldn't they._

Percy learned, to his great astonishment, that Oliver had even let Marcus Flint drag him under the stands and teach him a few tricks. Really good ones, actually, like the one Oliver was using at that moment. Percy laughed, and Oliver stopped and looked up, confused.

“Oh, I was just thinking I should thank Marcus for teaching you that. I'm going march up to him at Breakfast, and then, loudly enough for all the Slytherins to hear, I'm going to tell him about what you've been doing to me just now, and how much I enjoyed it, and I'm going to remind him who you learned it from and thank him. Can you imagine the riot that will break out at the Slytherin table?”

Oliver guffawed, spraying a mouthful of Percy's spunk all over his stomach. “Oh, ick,” said Percy, reaching for his wand. “Here, I'll clean that up.”

“You will NOT. I will clean it up myself. With my tongue.” Percy decided he was okay with that.

After a while, they moved to Percy's bed, having made a right mess of Oliver's. Oliver had laughed to imagine what the house elves were going to think, but Percy was scandalized – they did not need to know about this! He would have to do a thorough Scourgify in the morning. He was afraid that if he tried it now, worn out as he was, he'd set the bed on fire or drench it in Flobberworm slime.

He soon found that Oliver was equally worn out, and happy to just lie still and let Percy gently feel and lick and kiss wherever he wanted. Percy was a little hesitant about that. They'd been shagging for an hour, but now he was playing with Oliver's body like a sex toy, and that felt just a little awkward.

Oliver sensed his unease. “Go on, Perce, molest me. Do whatever you want. Don't be shy, I'm not.” Then, grinning slyly, he grabbed Percy's hand and pushed it down between his legs.

“Are you sure? I wouldn't want to be presumptuous...”

Oliver burst out laughing. “Perce, you're the only person I know who would worry about being _presumptuous_ after I just shoved your hand in my crotch. For your information, letting a guy handle me all over is something I really enjoy, it feels wonderful. Sometimes it's a challenge, finding a place to sneak away where I can strip down and let some dude have at me. But now that I know I can get my best friend to do this, right here in our room, I don't see why it shouldn't happen every night. You know what they say about practice makes perfect.”

“Mr. Wood, am I meant to infer that you're offering me a body to practice upon?”

“Why yes Mr. Weasley, that's exactly what I'm doing. I hereby officially present my brawny little bod for you to play with”

Percy groaned. "Circe's curses, Ol, you drive me half 'round the bend just saying that. You really have no inhibitions at all, do you.”

“What was your first clue?”

“Maybe the fact that I'm playing with your balls and you're chatting away as if you hadn't even noticed.

“Oh, believe me, I've noticed, it feels really good. It'd be okay if you kept doing that for a while.”

“Well, _Mister_ Wood, I do take customer satisfaction seriously.”

“Obviously. To answer your question, no inhibitions whatever. You know Trelawney says your sign matches your personality?”

“Oh, it does! Bill and Charlie are Sagittarius, and they're friendly and independent. The Twins are Aries, and they're impulsive and self-involved. Ron is a Pisces, and he's...”

“Yes, yes. Well, I think the sign that matches my personality would have flashing red lights and say 'slut.'”

Percy laughed so hard he almost fell off the bed.

Now that he had permission, Percy spent the next half hour happily running his fingers and tongue over every part of Oliver, making him moan and sigh, and occasionally making him giggle when Percy did something that tickled. Percy himself was a bit giddy over the discovery that the roommate he had so wanted to get his paws on was eager to be pawed.

Suddenly, Oliver stiffened. “Oh, Merlin, I just thought of something! What am I going to do about your siblings? Now that you and I are, erm, _involved_...as soon as they find out, they're going to turn into the Wizengamot. Ron and Ginny will grill me, Bill and Charlie will send Howlers. The Twins are going to threaten me until they've got me shaking like a Mimbulus...Mimbulus...ah crap, what's it called?”

“Mimbulus Mimbletonia, Oliver. And you're probably right about the others, but the Twins won't give a rat's fart if you're nice to me or not.”

“Do you really think that? You know, I'm around them a lot, I probably know them better than you do. They've got a trait few people ever see, and that's loyalty to the people who are close to them. Sure, they rag on you, but like I said, they rag on everybody. I think if you were ever in real danger, they'd try to protect you.”

Percy snorted. “I'd be really surprised, Ol.”

“They'd probably be just as surprised. Maybe this thing of ours will make them realize how much they actually care about you.”

“Yeah, _right._ How would you like to make a friendly wager on that?”

Oliver gasped in mock horror. “Why, Percy, I'm stunned! You of all people know betting for money is against the rules! And you a Prefect!... Ahem. Be that as it may, since you have thrown down the gauntlet, as it were, and I, as a Quidditch Captain, must never allow any hint of cowardice to besmirch my sparking reputation" - Percy snickered - "I have no choice but to accept your challenge. A galleon says the Twins are going to slam me up against a wall and threaten me with a dual Crucio if I ever harm so much as a single hair on your head. I'll have bruises to prove they did it.”

“You're on, Ol. I will require you to pay up at Dinner, in the Great Hall, in front of everybody. That will be a fitting time for us to announce that you and I are..are...”

“Dating?”

“Erm, speaking for myself, madly in love... you really don't mind if I say I'm in love with you?” he asked timidly. Percy's insecurities weren't going to give up without a fight.

 _“Mind?!_ Why would I mind?” Oliver shifted so he could look in Percy's eyes. “Perce, the best thing you could tell me is that you're in love with me. Because I'm in love with you too. Crazy, totally, head over heels in love. Whenever I catch you eyeing me, my heart skips a beat and I think, 'Is it possible? Can this beautiful genius really be interested in his dumb jock roommate?' You remember how, when I was having trouble with a wand motion and you’d take my hand and show me how to do it, and then I would insist that you do it again and again?" Oliver blushed. "I said I needed the practice, but actually…”

Percy smiled as the truth dawned on him. “…You just wanted me to hold your hand, didn’t you! Oliver, that is so Slytherin!”

“Guilty as charged. And I would sit there with you moving my hand around and dream of the day we'd be together, and I wouldn’t have to think up Slytherin schemes to get you to hold my hand.”

“And I never caught on. Merlin, I must be just awful at reading people.”

“Then let me say it plainly enough you can't misunderstand. I want you to love me. I want to love you back. I want you to see yourself as I see you, as someone who deserves to be loved. I want you to say you'll be mine from now on. I'll offer myself on a platter, I'll give you everything I've got, I'll even put you ahead of Quidditch if you’ll do that.”

Percy was overwhelmed. “Oliver, I can't ask you to totally commit to me like that, it would be so hard to be worthy of you, to live up to...”

“No, it's my job to be worthy of you. You've given me so much as my friend, as my champion, and now as my lover. I want to give you something in return. I can't do much to help you rise in the Ministry, that takes skills you already have and I don't. I know you'll have triumphs there that make you feel golden. But you'll also have aggravating, frustrating days that make you feel like dirt. And when that happens, I want you to know there's someone you can come home to who has your back, who is willing to protect you and advocate for you, who loves you and thinks you're the _best thing in the World._ Please let me be the one to give you that.”

“I...I...all right, Oliver.”

Oliver gathered Percy in his arms for a sweet kiss. For a while, they just lay on the bed, kissing and grinning stupidly at each other. 

Soon Oliver began to yawn. “I think it's time for me to get some sleep,” he said. “I have a Quidditch game tomorrow, I may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Every day, all day and into the evening for the last week,” Percy teased.

“But if you want to keep playing with my naughty bits, go ahead.”

“Actually, I was thinking of kissing you some more.”

“Oh, that's a wonderful way to go to sleep.”

Percy felt a tiny stab of jealousy. “That sounds like the voice of experience, Oliver. How many guys have kissed you to sleep before me?”

“Hmm?” Oliver was already nodding off. “Dunno. Zix or zeb'n, maybe. Don' wan' them any more, tho. Jus' wan' you now...zzz...”

Percy repeated Oliver's words in his mind, smiling to himself. _Don't want them any more. Just want you now._

\+ + + +

Percy shook his head again, bringing his mind back to the present. He found himself still holding the most beautiful boy in Hogwarts, asleep in his arms. Sometime while Percy was mentally replaying the events of the evening, Oliver had turned over, now facing away. Percy started trailing little kisses up and down his broad shoulders, cradling his head with one arm and using the other hand to caress his abs. The moonlight was shining in through the open window and falling directly on Oliver, spotlighting him as if to say, “Look at this, Percy, see what you've got! Whoever has the biggest vault in Gringott's hasn't got a treasure to match the one you have!”

The sweet scents of the spring night drifting in on the breeze seemed to say all the things Percy could not have put into words in that moment. He reflected that there was more than one kind of Transfiguration: the tortured soul he had been just a few hours ago, the one who hated everything about himself, was so different from the person he was now...serene, confident, vindicated, at peace with himself for the first time ever.

He now knew he was respected, as he had always wanted to be. He understood that in other people's eyes, he was everything the Twins should aspire to become. He was valued, not only by the Headmaster who had given him the Prefect badge, but also by the many students he had tutored. He had never considered teaching at Hogwarts after his Ministry career until Oliver suggested it, but the thought appealed to him.

He saw that he stood apart from the rest of his family because he really was different, but that didn't mean he was broken or that they disliked him. He had always believed they made the effort to look past his many failings in order to love him, because he was family. Now he realized that his quirks were just quirks, not failings, that his family had never regarded them as such, and they loved him because they wanted to.

Best of all – the thing that filled him with such joy that he thought it might burst out of him and shower the room with sparks – he had his best friend back, new and improved, now with Love at no extra cost. Beautiful, precious Oliver, who had seemed so far beyond his reach and now was his. Oliver, who could have been with any gay or bi guy in Hogwarts, and had been with many, but had chosen the scrawny nerd over all of them. In the span of a single hour, Oliver had taken his whole upside-down life and set it right. 

A thought occurred to him that almost made him laugh: Oliver had done wandless magic! He had Vanished Percy's burdens, Transfigured his angst into joy, and then, in the hours that followed, raised them both to Cloud Nine without so much as a muttered Wingardium Leviosa. _Look at that, you doubters,_ Percy thought. _You who believed Oliver was a squib – could any of you have done what he has done tonight? If that doesn't prove he's a genuine wizard, I don't know what a wizard is!_

Oliver had seen nobility in him. He wondered if Oliver was aware of the nobility in himself. He hoped not, because then he would have the privilege of showing Oliver the best in himself, as Oliver had done for Percy.

Percy thought about Professor Trelawney, and how that silly old bat liked to blather on about “lucky stars.” He had always dismissed the idea as Muggle superstition, but he was a believer now, because he obviously had some. The ones he could see through the window did seem especially twinkly tonight. _I wonder if those are mine? They must be, they look like they're celebrating. Hi guys!...and thanks for everything!_

Percy had expected his sheer elation to keep him awake all night, but the combination of cool breeze and warm Oliver was too seductive to resist. With a happy sigh and one last snuggle, he drifted off to sleep. He would not dream of cages this night, or ever again; he was done with cages. Tonight he would dream of strong arms and warm lips, and a Prefect and a Quidditch Captain dancing across the sky in the light of the morning Sun.

**Author's Note:**

> It's interesting how a fic, once started, can develop a will of its own. I meant this to be an "Oliver fixes Percy" story, but about halfway thru, it put its foot down and said, "You're going to write me as a Percy and Oliver fall in love story." That put me on shaky ground, as I have no experience with gay relationships. Others will have to tell me if this rings true. I wanted to give Percy a shot at happiness before the future came crashing down on him.  
> Potterheads will know I've aged Eloise Midgen a few years to fit the story. In the books, she would have been about twelve.  
> The title, of course, is from Robert Burns' poem, "To a Louse."  
> 


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